


Meal Time

by mikeymagee



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Character Study, Food, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikeymagee/pseuds/mikeymagee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn is a part of the Resistance, but old habits from the First Order die hard. Particularly during meal time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meal Time

Meal time was the biggest adjustment. Finn wasn’t really used to sitting down with a fork in hand, and enjoying what he was eating. Growing up, food wasn’t meant to be savored. Its purpose was for sustenance. Taste, texture, and flavor were irrelevant. The First Order’s philosophy was the same in every aspect of its existence. Order first, everything else second…if it counted at all. Each Stromtrooper was allotted a set amount of time for food, and if you hadn’t cleaned your plate before your time was up, a commanding officer would take your plate and dismiss you. There was no conversation because there wasn’t time. Fraternizing wasn’t encouraged either way.

Meals were for meals…and nothing else.

But now that he had joined the Resistance, the situation was now completely different. The first time Finn entered the Resistance Mess hall, he was accosted by chatter, easy conversations, and a warm welcoming atmosphere. Soldiers joked with each other, they savored their Mynoc cream, they slid berries from one side of their plates to the other. They had seconds, and drank beers. And Finn would have been delighted if it didn’t terrify him so much.

Finn grabbed a plate, and placed the most efficient pieces of food he could find. An apple for energy, a glass of water for hydration, and charred mynoc for protein. A meal made for a Stormtrooper, a life he had abandoned. So, what did that make him now? Finn looked around the room, trying to navigate himself from one table to the next. There were fighter pilots who chatted about the air drills they would have to run today. Ground soldiers who discussed strategies. Squad leaders who talked about the best ways to motivate their teams. So many different conversations in one small space. Voices upon voices. Faces wrapped in an unfamiliar glow.

Finn found a place to sit down, an empty table far away the others. With his fire team, the FN corps, Finn was often the outsider. The man whose heart was too soft to pull a trigger, and now, here at the Resistance, he was something different. He was the former enemy who could not integrate himself within his new team. No matter where he went, he was always in a perpetual limbo. Not fully an enemy, but never quite part of the whole.

He took a bite of his apple. Its juice dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it away quicker than anyone could blink. If Captain Phasma had seen that, he would have been punished for disgracing the pride of Grand Leader Snoke. He took another bite of his apple, and then another, and another. Each in rapid succession. Without even thinking, he broke off a part of his charred Mynoc, took his cup in hand, and swallowed. _Hurry_ _there was work to be done_.

He swallowed a mouthful of water.

 _Hurry_ , _someone might be watching._

He chewed the core of his apple, and spat the seeds onto the floor.

_Hurry, if you’re not quick someone might take your plate away._

He wiped the grease onto his napkin and kept going, not a single thought turned to taste, or texture, or enjoyment…or humanity. Conversations shoved to the side for efficiency. Friendship deconstructed so a man could carry on with no remorse.

_You are a soldier of the First Order…your duty is to your leader._

Finn pulled the last charred flesh of Mynoc from the bone, and swallowed hard. His plate was empty, not even a crumb was left alive…no mercy given.

Even when he ate, Finn could not fully escape the First Order.

Finn glanced around the mess hall, filled with voices that he could not hear, sentiments that he could not feel, and scraps of food he could not taste.


End file.
